Final Fantasy VII: The Onyx Key
by delphiamike18
Summary: A sidestory about fourteen years after the ending of FFVII. Ping is a talented bodyguard for Yuffie Kisarigi. After a meeting with a man who nearly killed Yuffie, they set out to find a girl who - surprise - is the key to a sixth weapon. If it is awakened
1. The Garden

**The Garden**

Ping Sa sat indian-style on the stone balcony that overlooked the quiet pond. She was as close to the edge without actually touching. To her side, a waterfall dipped into the pond, the water being as quiet as possible, rippling in every direction. She breathed in the air which carried a hint of mist. Ping uncrossed her legs, propping herself up with her hands. She felt a cool object on the hard surface, momentarily breaking her silent concentration.

She looked down onto it, studying her short black hair and brown eyes, which had a happy slant to them, giving her face a content look. She was of medium height and slightly thin frame, wearing a white robe, held in place by a red ribbon with white slippers. The place she resided was the most peaceful place in all of Wutai.

Ping was a high-ranking student in the Wutai Pagoda, where Yuffie Kisarigi sat atop the food chain now, allowing her hair to grow and body to mature. She was still small, and very feisty, acting half her age now. She spared now and then to keep her skills a little more than dull, just to tell herself that they were still there.

The town of Wutai was a very small, quiet place which had a continent by itself. The famous Pagoda was now home to a place simply called 'The Garden'. No fancy nicknames, no additions to the simple title, just two words. The garden wasn't built at all. It came as a result of an event at the Northern Crater that affected the whole planet. When Wutai was rebuilt, The Garden was there. No one said anything, going about business as usual. For some reason, certain dwellers felt compelled to travel there. Others dismissed it, thinking if they didn't know how it came to be, there was no reason to go at all.

The Garden never had a fight, a duel as it were. Just like life has unwritten rules, the Garden had them as well. Don't destroy the plants, don't desecrate anything, and most of all don't fight. No one had to be told these things, because of the setting.

The edges bore white lilies, while had an extra sparkle to them when the mist of the waterfall rested on them. Within the lilac border was grass. Simple, green grass. It was manicured every now and then. Within the four walls of flowers and grass lay a patio of stone tiles, stretching out into stairs that had a second level overlooking the whole garden.

Of course, this is where Ping sat, exiting her quiet state, allowing the songs of birds to fill the air, grasping every note as if a song was to be heard.

Before traveling, Ping spent as much time as possible, breathing in every particle of peace and calm before leaving. When she left, she'd be the bodyguard for Yuffie. While the still young woman, only 30 years old, could handle herself, a little assistance wouldn't hurt. Bill Crossman, a very strong monk would oversee the Pagoda, so there were no worries in that regard.

Ping searched one last time like she did every time before trekking, trying to find something remotely wrong, something that disturbed her, broke the thin line of conscious, everyday thought.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Ping let out a breath that assured her she was breathing and nothing was wrong. The sky was a vibrant blue, with clouds trying to form shapes so people looking could break the awkward silence between them. The blade was sheathed and Ping's footsteps hushed themselves in reverence of The Garden as she prepared to be absent from the sanctuary for a week.


	2. In The Air

**In the Air**

Yuffie stood in her flower clad kimono, her back facing Ping. Ping shuffled her feet, finding a pebble that would occupy her until a word was spoken.

"It was supposed to be here already." the voice rang part youthfully, part annoyed. Ping managed to trap the pebble under her foot, not exactly knowing the reason she did. She heard the sound of cloth flapping in the still wind. Yuffie was now facing her. Her face was a little longer than when Ping looked up to a more youthful, brash teenager. The elder female was drawn to the happy face in the past. Something about what it hid from her. Even now, she wasn't sure how Ping handled a sword so deftly, or how she would soon become the best fighter in Wutai.

Yuffie was more amazed than boggled. She finished her episodic memory, realizing her gaze had been locked onto her protégé for a few minutes now. Ping gave an uncertain smile, wondering what Yuffie was thinking about. The air stood still between them.A few lonely stares mirrored themselves before Yuffie's glance evaded Ping's, and her eyes rested over her shoulder.

"A hummingbird." Yuffie stated. Ping turned and the cloud seemed to float miserably, reminding itself of its fleeting existence, of how Mother Nature could make it bloated and bleed clear liquids, some frozen hard, some freely falling, assured of their home. Ping watched it float, covering the sky within a carousel of decorations, none leaving a permanent mark.

Yuffie began to pace, trying to think of a conversation to occupy time until the airship arrived. It seemed to her they spoke of everything, though all of the actual conversations shared lately could be counted on one hand.

Ping laughed as Yuffie asked if she had a boyfriend, someone she was at least looking at. The younger replied that she really never thought of it. Yuffie gave a muted glance, crossing her arms, faintly moving around, in, out, forward as Ping looked down, the pebble offering its services again.

The elder's ears twitched as the sun lifted itself in the sky, accompanied by a clatter. She sneered and groaned inwardly. They sent an inferior airship. The engines sounded worn and if anything, the pilot would be another wet-behind-the-ears-close-to-wetting-his-pants-if-a-move-was-questioned aviator.

"Give them a chance." Ping smiled, recognizing the expression Yuffie wore. The elder managed a grin as the airship touched down.

In some instances, the airship had an assistant of sorts, the kind that was so kind, so helpful, so waiting on the slightest glance in their direction, that they'd be by your side if they possessed ESP. Ping felt awkward, not really knowing how to order someone around. She remembered on previous trips, nearly dehydrating because she was afraid to ask for water. Everytime she thought of it, she involuntarily coughed. Yuffie nearly turned, but was aware of Ping and her tendency to exhume her embarrassing memories.

The doors opened, and a brunette walked out. She had wide brown eyes, almost in the same fashion as Ping's. Her small mouth stretched into a wide smile as she stood by the opening. Ping felt a twinge of apprehension as Yuffie moved toward the ship. She followed closely behind, careful of how to look at the stewardess. She gave a quick glance followed by a smile before looking for a place to sit.

Airships were a popular form of travel for high-rollers and the business elite. It gave them an abundance of space to move around, conduct meetings, look important, all that baloney. For Yuffie, it was more of a hastle. Too much room if she ever commented on it. Yuffie was used to moderation. A cup of rice, a little meat. Portions. An order, not a buffet. She nearly had to hold her breath in these spacious things. There was too much.

Ping sat down, doing everything short of clinging to the armrests. She shook her head as the stewardess walked by. In a few minutes, Ping trusted that Sleep would carry her to Midgar. It was not the airship; Sleep only allowed the airship to carry Ping. Ping gave away to Sleep earlier than expected, knowing that when she awoke, she would have a few more moments with it before eventually allowing him to go away until the time came for him to care for her again.

_Oh the irony_, Ping thought. _Of all the fighting I've done, I've never fought Sleep…_


	3. Manila

Manila

The words played in her head, missing a tone or two, but meaning the same nonetheless.

_I would kill for something to eat…_

The hood on her head covered what was a mane of brown hair that really didn't decide whether to go down to her shoulders or hang around her cranium. Well, the owner was to blame. She decided that a hood was a good way to go. The red hood reminded her of a story she'd managed to read her and recite once.

Her white blouse and red skirt were expenses paid for by a man who went about matters in a different way. She knew him for never answering his questions directly, taking showers almost every five hours and eating the crusts off his bread, leaving a whole sandwich, which she usually ate happily.

"Yuffie is coming to town." He said, sitting at the edge of his bed. The red-hooded girl sat on his desk facing from about ten feet away. She had a thin build with a small frame that easily evaded anyone who looked. She was twenty-two years old, not a years more or less. She preferred not to revealher age, letting her voice force others to presume she'd barely met puberty.

"And what is my mission?" she asked, her voice distinctly springing to life. It was about four o'clock in the maiden sector of Midgar. The different man stretched a bit, his press pass on the desk behind the red girl.

"What kind of food do you like?" He rose his arms individually, making it look as if he were flapping his wings. Maybe he put on too much deodorant. Whenever he felt like thinking, he picked at bits of it that wanted to cake itself in his armpits. He began to pick. The red girl leapt off the desk, walking to his bed in the small room. She sat at the edge beside him, but facing the window, which gave a view of citizens, drunkards, police, children, cowards, mothers, mother-makers, widow-makers, homeless, runaways, gentlemen, criminals, whoever managed to walk through the streets was instantly labeled. She longed to be apart of them, but she lost her chance. More like lost her home.

The man picking his pits had dark hair, slicked back with tan skin and slanted eyes downward, giving him menacing stare, especially when he lowered his gaze, or head. Whichever one. The red girl checked the strap on her thigh. It didn't matter which one. She slid her hand smoothly down the dagger that met the insides of many people. It had been inside more women than the pit-picking man, but he planned everything, so she bit her tongue after every successful mission.

He possessed a muscular build, which made his wearing a wifebeater a little impressive. Red girl noticed, but walked to the window, watching every person. Their expressions. Their possessions. She wished the ones she saw could kidnap her and feed her. Her gaze frowned a bit when she saw a lightpole on the corner, where a tiny girl sat, huddled on the verge of crying, hoping her sad look would attract a bystander. Any bystander that could provide shelter. And food. Red girl felt a little alarmed, her skin a bit warm as the girl managed to look up, catching her looking. She wanted to move, but walking away only meant she wanted to forget her past. Red girl's hand pressed against the window where she thought the little girl's hand would be. Her yellow eyes locked onto the girls clear blue eyes. She sensed her pain and loneliness.

_ I can be there. Just wait outside the building. I'll be right there. I have some bread. And a cover too. _

"Juni." The little girl stopped crying now, showing signs of smiling as her face relaxed. Juni wouldn't find out. At least right now. She turned to see the pit-picking man throwing a manila folder on the table as he walked from the once occupied door, papers sliding out fashionably, as if it had been planned. Before she opened the folder, she saw two faces. One recognizable. If aged gracefully weren't used so much, Juni would've said the venerable woman with long hair had aged gracefully. Of course it was questionable why a thirty year old woman who could take out men twice as strong could be classified as aging at all.

Ping looked to the right on the photograph, possibly not aware of the photographer. Or knowledgeable, just posing inadvertently, hoping they got a good angle.

Juni flared her thin nostrils at Ping's portrait. Saying they met under hostile circumstances would be well, and understatement. The only person to give her a scar. Pit-picking man groaned a bit as he kept imitating a simian. Must've pulled a hair or two. Her mind seemed to spring another thought as he winced in pain. Make that only _woman _to give her a scar.

The folder said the usual stuff, they'll be here, so be here, they'll do this, so do this, like you've always done.

"Not exactly a killing. A meeting,I presume?" Juni asked, flipping past pages to make it look like commonplace.

"There's another girl. Shinra wants her." he said.

Juni watched him throw on a red button-down shirt which would pair with his uniform black pants and black shoes. The manila folder closed and Juni watched him straighten out his black jacket. He smiled at her, being only three years older and giving her these assignments made him feel twice as old, as if he couldn't perform himself. Yuffie and Ping would arrive to meet with them in ten minutes.

Juni stepped outside, looking at the lightpost.

The little girl was gone.


	4. a not so chancy meeting

a not so chancy meeting.

"Thank You." Yuffie said, leaving her seat and the airship. The ride was pretty smooth, and it gave her no time to form insults about the aviator. In fact, she hadn't seen the aviator. No worry, out of sight out of mind. Ping followed, still petrified of the stewardess who gave a painted on smile that belonged in a cartoon instead of on her face.

A suitable place to meet, Yuffie decided. A rundown place where citizens decided to ignore their conditions and surroundings through 'happy' and 'positive' thoughts. Ping liked those thoughts. Yuffie knew this. She noticed how close the feeling of belonging came to Ping as she walked the streets, just another person whose feet were dirty, face down, able to blend in. Yuffie would share the feeling, but after her meeting.

Yuffie had changed clothing, as did Ping. Sleep allowed her enough time to leave its embrace and come back into its arms wearing a red pantsuit with red running shoes and a white T-shirt. Ping never really liked the color. It stood out too much for her liking. Yuffie wore khaki pants and a white T-shirt, with khaki and green shoes to boot. No pun intended.

Ping's face began to light up. She felt an unusual peace amongst the people. It didn't matter where she looked – the sea of people were her. White lilies on the edge, the grass, sitting there, not waiting to serve its purpose. And in the center, a stone sanctuary, undisturbed, while a waterfall quietly bared its soul into the waiting pond, not one to judge. Ping felt a grip on her wrist. Yuffie saw Ping reminisce, even though she never lived here. She just felt like it.

When someone looks at an orphaned child in Midgar, automatically, the thought goes to the mother: where was she? Why did she leave this precious being? No one ever gave thought to a father, who may have had a hand in the equation. Or something else.

No pun intended.

Juni felt her dagger on her thigh, her heart beginning to tighten. It sensed tension, telling red that it was ready. She was glad, letting it know in advance of the events that could happen. If it stopped, it was the ventricles and valves fault. They should be open, or ready to open. The thrill of an executed plan was enough to excite her. Or just the thought. As she walked behind pit-picker, she saw the little girl again Not frowning, but content. She held an apple close to her chest, a bite formed in it. She located Juni's yellow eyes, a transparent happiness shining in her blue eyes. It told Juni she could find something, that she was glad she found something. As if Juni's gaze had reflected through hers and fortune was found. Juni belived for her. Maybe she could find a pit-picker. Live with him in a small room and hear him dodge questions with round-the-way replies that still pertained to the inquiry at hand.

Then be trained to kill through a series of tasks, the most important being silencing yourself to hear more than footsteps on the ground, but the heartbeat of the person, and how to analyze it so that it gave away their personality. Pit-picker had a comfortable gait all the time. He only broke stride if there wasn't enough room to navigate. She heard his heart beating in concordance with his steps, perfectly timed. He let his heel hit the ground first, the rest of his step lightly rolling along the ground. Pit-picker walked straight, the vision of a table with three seats. Maybe four. He heard Juni's steps keep her heartbeat in tone, the feet keeping the base tone as her beats flittered about. Maybe she saw something in the girl that she would have had. He knew Juni couldn't resist looking at and secretly responding to the homeless, especially the young homeless. He knew she had a lot in common.

Yuffie and Ping beat Pit and Red, and they weren't the least bit nervous. For a moment, Yuffie wondered why she would have to meet with a man who nearly killed her about a year ago. Well a man who had a woman with him who nearly killed her. Ping was barely adept at fighting actual people in actual situations, but the proverbial gun was to her head so to speak, so she had to adjust to the learning curve, which shot vertically as Juni made a blatant attempt at Yuffie's life. Ping recoiled, more to the fact that she was being treated as nothing more than a spectator, window dressing that would give a view to the killing. Even with her sword.

Maybe red is what was best for Ping. She certainly felt the color coming onto her pastel white face. Yuffie sensed the year-old memory had been exhumed in the conscious of her protégé. Juni sat down first, her eyes not exactly looking anywhere. Pit seated himself, his head down initially. After an exact minutes of breathing between them, Yuffie spoke.

"This is an odd place to try to kill me." She spoke. Pit smiled, and Juni maintained a gaze past Ping, but managed to see her expression.

"Relax, that comes later." His deep voice droned. He gave a knowing smile as Yuffie responded.

"So, who have you found?" she continued with the subject. Pit nodded, telling her about a young woman named Cassidy Madie. He didn't have a picture, but word was that Shinra was after her. The only way she could escape them was if she moved. But that would be moot, as Shinra was very mobile. A solution was found as Cassidy would be transported to Wutai.

"She's the key or something or other to a weapon." Pit said.

"The Onyx. I've heard a few things about it. But not the location." Yuffie replied.

"Where is she?" she asked. Ping gave a quick glance in Juni's direction, a little startled to see a pair of yellow eyes looking directly at her. They both looked away or down. Either way, Yuffie and Pit both noticed this.

The table was set. Yuffie folded her hands patiently as Pit told her where Cassidy lived.

"Outskirts lying between Sector Five and Six. When you get her, take her out of Midgar immediately. Shinra has ways of finding out about everything." Pit said. Yuffie breathed deeply, more out of habit. Ping blinked. Juni wiped her eyes. Pit brushed his armpits habitually. Signs that the conversation was over. Yuffie gave an amused look at the outstretched palm of Pit. He gave a nervous laugh, pulling his hand away. After this silent exchange, Ping felt everything slow down. Pit and Juni felt extra footsteps and multiple heartbeats. Yuffie's instincts told her to get ready.

Something was about to happen.

Within seconds, three black clad individuals entered the room, their sunglasses hiding whatever emotion they were supposed to convey. All three stood in a line, shoulder to shoulder, holding machine guns. They bypassed the obligatory speech and sprayed the bar with bullets. Everywhere. Table and glasses were ripped to pieces, the air filled with sounds of destruction. One minute of chaos fueled by firearms, and it was over.

"Compliments of Shinra. If you're still alive,we'll finish the job later." Ping saw nothing. She only heard a female's husky voice, and footsteps fading.


End file.
